


(Please) Rain On My Parade

by mysticmajestic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Dancing in the Rain, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Marriage, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmajestic/pseuds/mysticmajestic
Summary: From the day they met, every important moment Shiro's ever had with Lance happened in the rain.





	(Please) Rain On My Parade

**Author's Note:**

> It's raining right now and I was struck with the sudden urge to write this.

Shiro had never thought much of the man with the bright smile and loud personality, the one who worked in an office three floors below him. Not until that day.

“Ugh, why did it have to rain _today_?” he grumbled, struggling to open his umbrella before he stepped out into the downpour. He really ought to get a new one; there was rust on the metal, and the canopy had the propensity to fly off in a breeze and leave him soaked to the bone and scowling like an angry cat. “All my important notes…”

He had never liked the rain. If he wanted to get wet, he’d take a shower or go to the beach. He only appreciated the rain when he had nowhere to go and nothing to do, which was rare.

When he finally got the umbrella open properly, that’s when he heard the voices.

“Hunk! Hunk, look! It’s raining!”

“Oh no—Lance, _don’t_!”

Someone shoulder-barged Shiro as they ran past, knocking him sideways. He flinched as rain hit his neck before he quickly raised the umbrella over his head.

“Hey!” he snapped. “What’s the big—”

Distantly, he felt his eyes widen and his jaw drop open as he watched the man laugh and dance in the rain. Sodden shirt plastered to his chest, hair flatted on his forehead, the man called Lance looked as if he were having the time of his life. He span and jumped, kicked up puddles like a child. Shiro had never seen such earnest passion from anyone over something as simple as _rain_.

“Sorry about that,” said Lance’s companion as he stepped outside, opening his own umbrella underneath the office building’s overhang roof. “He just gets excited when he sees rain and doesn’t really think about his actions.”

Still staring at Lance, Shiro whispered, “Yeah, yeah…it’s fine…”

“Hunk!” shouted Lance. “Hunk, come on!”

“The last time I danced in the rain with you, I got sick for two weeks,” said the man called Hunk. “Count me out for this one.”

“You party-pooper!”

Shiro had never seen a man so beautiful. He wanted to know more.

And that was where it all began.

 

* * *

 

It was raining the day Shiro finally talked to Lance. After a month of watching him, of yearning to know more, he finally worked up the courage to do so.

To this day, he maintains that running into him in the coffee shop was an accident, and it was. The clouds had gathered fast when he’d left the office to go and get his usual order of a custard tart and black coffee. Sprinting the rest of the way hadn’t saved him from getting wet. When he barged in, Lance was just about to leave.

“Oh!” yelped Lance, stumbling back. His small paper bag fell to the ground, but his own hot drink? Spilled down the front of Shiro’s white shirt. It took them a moment to get their bearings, the eyes of every customer in the shop on them. Lance was the first to recover. “Oh my goodness, I am so, so sorry!”

Spinning around, he ran for napkins, but the damage was already done. Holding his shirt away from his stinging skin, Shiro could already tell that it was bound for the trash the moment he found a replacement shirt. No amount of mopping Lance did with his handfuls of napkins would save it.

“It’s fine,” said Shiro. Lance was red-faced with shame, his paper bag forgotten on the floor.

“There’s not an issue is there, sirs?” asked the cashier, brows furrowed in concern.

 “No trouble at all, just a minor accident,” Shiro reassured her. He looked down at the puddle on the ground between himself and Lance. “You might want a mop bucket. Sorry about that.”

“I should be the one apologising,” Lance moaned. “I saw you coming but I thought I could get out in time to avoid a collision.” He buried his face in his hands, heedless to the used napkins he still clutched. “I’m so sorry.”

 _Now’s my chance,_ Shiro thought. He didn't care about the shirt; he just wanted to know everything about the man with the bright smile who had danced in the rain like nothing else could ever please him half as much. If he let this opportunity go, Shiro doubted he'd ever get another chance.

Someone walked into the coffee shop, letting in the deafening sound of the rain as they gently pushed past Shiro with a muttered apology. The sound of the rain lent Shiro the courage he needed.

“Lance, right?” he asked. Peeking up over his knuckles, Lance nodded. “Hey, listen, why don’t I buy you a replacement coffee and you tell me more about yourself?”

“Wh-what? Why? I spilled my drink down your front. You shouldn’t be…”

“Ever since I saw you dancing in the rain last month, I’ve been intrigued by you.” Shiro smiled as Lance gaped up at him. “Consider this my roundabout way of asking you out on a date.”

Minutes later, they were sat next to the large, rain-streaked window toward the back of the coffee shop, talking. Shiro forgot all about his shirt stain as he stared into Lance’s eyes, as bewitched as he was when he first clapped eyes on him.

 

* * *

 

Four months later, it rained so heavily that there was a good inch of water on the ground, the drains full to capacity. Shiro took no notice of it; he still had a lot of paperwork to do. Work had been kicking his ass for weeks.

“Hey,” Lance whispered into his ear, draping himself over Shiro’s back. Shivering, Shiro bit back a smile as he felt Lance’s lips tickle the skin behind his ear. “Come with me. Take a break.”

“I can’t, I have a lot of work to do—”

“A very short break,” Lance wheedled. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to do with you. Now’s the perfect opportunity.”

If that wasn’t intriguing… “Like what?”

Grasping his hand, Lance pulled Shiro to his feet. “Come with me and find out.”

Shiro went with him. Paperwork could wait for now. It was nothing he couldn’t complete at the office. Intrigue melted into understanding as Lance led him to the front door.

“You might want to take your shirt off,” said Lance, releasing Shiro’s hand so he could whip off his own shirt. And then, throwing it aside, he was racing out of the house and into the rain with a whoop of laughter. “Come on, Shiro! It’s so nice out here!”

Shiro had never liked the rain. Not until he met Lance.

Ripping off his shirt, he ran out to join Lance. They danced and leaped, twirled each other around, and kicked puddles at each other. As thunder crackled overhead, Shiro pulled Lance to him and kissed him sweetly, beaming as Lance’s giggles tickled his lips.

He would never love anyone as much as he did Lance.

 

* * *

 

They married on Varadero beach in the rain six years later.

The forecast said it was going to be overcast the whole day, but Shiro had been praying for this.

Everyone yelped as, midway through Shiro’s vows, a veritable downpour descended onto them, soaking them within minutes. Lance let out a little shriek, then laughed, holding his hands out wide as if to embrace the rain as a whole, tilting his head back.

“We need to get inside,” said the officiator.

“No,” said Shiro. “This is perfect. Let me continue.”

The officiator gaped at him like he was mad, but Lance was beaming at him from ear to ear, and that was all that mattered. The wedding continued. No one but Lance could hear the vows over the rain except Lance, the only one who ever needed to hear them.

Every important moment Shiro had with Lance had happened because of the rain. To make his vows with the rain as his witness was an honour. As he stared into eyes as blue as the raging ocean nearby, Shiro knew he would hold onto his promises for the rest of his life and do his best by Lance until the day he died.

He would never love another, not like he loved Lance.

“You may kiss,” the officiator yelled.

And as Shiro kissed Lance with all the passion he had to give, he knew peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it!


End file.
